


Perfectionist Complex

by skuldgirl



Category: Vocaloid
Genre: Car Accidents, Depressing Thoughts, Gen, Inner Dialogue, Rehabilitation, deep thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-15
Updated: 2013-07-15
Packaged: 2017-12-20 06:24:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/883981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skuldgirl/pseuds/skuldgirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Is there any meaning to these connected days? I sit here and stare out the window into the life of others - all from this chair.</p>
<p>"Was the world created by the gods only to fight off their boredom? Do we even have value as people? What makes us anything to anyone? What’s the point?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Perfectionist Complex

**Author's Note:**

> Based on - you guessed it! - Perfectionist Complex by Megurine Luka. This is the song http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TRNS0oAN2iI and this one http://allpoetry.com/poem/9148155-Perfectionist_Complex-by-Clover_Storm is the english lyrics. I actually wrote this for class a few months ago. ^^'

Is there any meaning to these connected days? I sit here and stare out the window into the life of others - all from this chair.  
I look down into my blue, thin, itchy lap at hands that have been burned beyond recognition. Cut, sliced, diced, these hands have held…. They have held the world, and now they hold nothing.  
Was the world created by the gods only to fight off their boredom? Do we even have value as people? What makes us anything to anyone? What’s the point?  
But… even if there’s no point to life, I will choose to live. If there is no difference between being alive and being dead, I will choose to live. At least I will leave behind something to be remembered by.  
But really, I just wish I could….  
“Time for your medication, Darling,” said the sweet nurse that’s been assigned to me since…. Since….  
“Is there any point to life?” I ask her suddenly.  
“Now, now, Dearie, don’t think those kinds of things. Look round! All these people in this place are fightin’ for their very lives. Don’t go thinking’ you can give up yours and put all their hard work to shame.” She gave me that pointed look some people have. That one that’s like a cat staring at you. They can’t figure you out, but they won’t look away until their sure of whatever it is their looking for. And they don’t blink. “Now. You take your meds and I’ll be back in a bit to take you outside for a roll.” She winked at that but I just stared at my lap and my chair. My useless legs.  
Ever since the accident I’ve been like this. Not quite paralyzed, I got lucky, but both legs were broken and it’s going to take serious rehabilitation to fix it. I’m on the way, but…. I just don’t know if I want to….  
I just can’t forget…. Meg screaming, and Mom and Dad bleeding and bleeding and bleeding, and trying to stop it, and Rin’s cold, cold stare with her ice blue eyes that used to be so….  
I gasp and hold my head in my hands. I pull my bubble-gum pink hair harshly - it pulls me out of my head. Meds, meds, I need my meds, I think and quickly grab the cup the nurse left and down everything in it. I let out breaths, frantic and deep.  
I’m so scared. I’m so afraid. That past…. My memories… haunt me. It’s painful, it hurts, it hurts and it’s the most painful thing…. I wish I could lock it away. My past, these feelings, everything. Then, and only then, could I live in peace.  
I laugh bitterly at my naivety. I cover my face with one burnt hand and feel tears. I cry and laugh, together, as two sides of the same coin. The same coin of emotions that had joy on one side and pain and sadness on the other. I once thought I would never be able to laugh or cry again. I was dead. Now I can. Even with the pain, even if people sneer and tell me to get over it, there’s no way I could. But I shake it off and laugh. Then cry.  
“Hey, Sweetie. I’m back.” Ah, that sweet nurse again, I think.  
I look back and up at her. “ We’re going on a walk now right?”  
She smiled down at me and grabbed the handles on my chair to roll me out. “Of course. You deserve outdoor time.”  
I stare upward at the aqua sky while there. It’s just so beautiful and perfect. I wish I could be perfect like the sky. But…. I’m not, and I cannot love an imperfect person….  
At least I’m not vague, I think. To be vague is weak.  
I remember how Meg was…. Always so vague…. I feel a little pull at my heart. I would say emotions are weak, but then happiness and sadness and anger would have no meaning. They would be useless.  
I only want to be able to say that because my emotions are hurting me and causing pain. Strength is better. I need that. I want it, but…. I can’t have it. I look down again - at my useless, stupid legs.  
“Never, ever, say you are stupid. You are perfect, you are not stupid.” That was what Mom would say to me for that. I feel the pull again and my eyes well up with tears. God, emotions are a nuisance. And yet…. There’s a warmth in this feeling. Even through the pain, it’s a warm pain…. This is my heart and… Emotions are imperfect. My heart is my emotions. Therefore my heart is imperfect. But…. I must listen to Mom’s lesson. Love yourself. You are not stupid. You are not stupid. You are not -  
“I have to take you back in now for your physical therapy,” said a voice right by my ear as I was turned and rolled back inside. I jumped about a mile in the air and then realized it was the sweet nurse.  
“Get up on the bar and pull yourself up….”  
To find out if I am to live, whether living and dying are the same, whether there is a pint in life, I need to live, I realize as I try to move my legs at all. I’ll find out after I’ve lived my life. And… even if I laugh or cry, I will love my life. I give this contemplation as the sweet nurse wheels me back to the room with the window.  
I will love my life. It doesn’t have to be perfect or anything. I’ll just be me. Like Mom wanted. Like Meg was. Like Dad and Rin saw in me. After the sweet nurse helps me get down for bed, I sit staring at the picture on my nightstand, the last picture we ever took together. On the right is Mom and Dad smiling and laughing, with their arms around each other. Dad had his left arm around me and I in turn am holding Rin. Meg is on Rin’s left and leaning against us. She almost made us fall, and I chuckle a little at that. We look so happy. We all have smiles and look…just…happy.  
I pick the picture up and rub my thumb over everyone’s faces. Faces I haven’t seen since the crash. Life was perfect. It never will be again. But it’s okay to find something to fit me. Something to make me happy.  
“Is it okay?” I muse to my last living memory of bygone days.  
It’s okay.


End file.
